


Think of Me, Think of Me Fondly

by blarfshnorgull



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Biting, Canonical Character Death, Edit: I have decided to no longer be a coward and own up to this fic, M/M, it’s like only in the vicinity of smut, it’s not that smutty all things considered but I’m not having my second posted fic be vampire porn, little bit of a bite kink?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:54:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23227432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blarfshnorgull/pseuds/blarfshnorgull
Summary: Even in his second life, Rodrigue never wants to part from Lambert.Written for Rodrigue Weekend Day 1 & 2.
Relationships: Lambert Egitte Blaiddyd/Rodrigue Achille Fraldarius
Comments: 8
Kudos: 24
Collections: Rodrigue Week 2020





	Think of Me, Think of Me Fondly

**Author's Note:**

> This is a combo prompt for Rodrigue weekend and I need it to be very clear that this is a vampire au because I don’t make it as clear as I should lol.

Moonlight streams through the windows of the royal bedchamber. The pale, barely-there light illuminates Lambert’s silhouette. Rodrigue can hardly see him, yet the knowledge that it  _ is _ Lambert fills him with a sense of reverence that would paralyze a lesser man.

Lambert slowly turns to face Rodrigue, finally acknowledging his presence. There’s a horrible moment of uncertainty that threatens to suffocate Rodrigue as he watches Lambert, and he can’t help but feel like he’s intruding on something private.

But Lambert merely smiles at him, like he was expecting this.

Like he  _ wants _ this.

Rodrigue doesn’t even remember walking into the room, much less why he’s here, but just one smile from Lambert kills his uncertainty quicker than any other force in this world possibly could. And the idea that Lambert wants him here, in his  _ bedroom... _

“I’m glad you’re here.”

If there was any breath left in his lungs, he surely would’ve lost it by now.

Yet Rodrigue can’t leave Lambert waiting. “Is there something you wanted to tell me?”

Lambert’s smile stays firmly in place and there is a painfully familiar twinkle in his eye. “Did you know that Kyphon swore a blood oath to Loog?” Lambert asks quietly, as if it’s a secret to be kept between them, and not common knowledge among their clans’ history. Like Rodrigue hasn’t told him this a thousand times before.

Somehow, hearing the acknowledgment of the deed from Lambert makes the oath more real.

“Any particular reason for the history lesson?” Rodrigue asks, hoping he sounds more casual than he feels. Hoping he doesn’t sound like the awkward fledgling that he used to be.

Lambert hums thoughtfully at his question.

“Clan Fraldarius has always worked side by side with Clan Blaiddyd, even before they formed the coven of Faerghus,” Lambert continues in the same quiet manner. “Our progenitors bound themselves together until the end of their second lives.”

“I believe I’ve told you this story before, Your Majesty.”

Lambert’s smile grows wider. “I’m well aware, my friend. I was just thinking about them. And us.”

“Are you asking if I want to form a blood oath with you?”

Lambert’s smile spreads into a full on grin, and Rodrigue can see the glint of his fangs before he lets out a quiet chuckle. “I would never ask you to do something so extreme.”

Rodrigue can’t help the twinge of disappointment. He would happily swear whatever oath he could to Lambert, but he keeps that information close to his chest.

Lambert doesn’t need to know how deep his affection runs.

“Tell me, what are you thinking right now, Rodrigue?”

_ That I’ve never loved you more. _ But he thinks that every time he sees Lambert, and he’ll be twice damned before he says that out loud.

“That I should be here for a reason?” he lies.

“Do we need a reason to be together?”

They never do.

“In your bedroom, we might need one,” Rodrigue offers, far more suggestively than he intended. If his heart could still beat, he’s sure that Lambert would be able to hear it.

Despite Rodrigue’s own doubts, Lambert begins to close the distance. He reaches towards Rodrigue, tucking a lock of loose hair behind his ear. His hand lingers by Rodrigue’s ear, where he pauses for a split second before he cups the side of Rodrigue’s jaw. They lock eyes with the same intensity that they would when locking swords. There’s barely any distance between them anymore, and yet it feels like an infinite chasm stretches out between them. 

Looking anywhere but Lambert’s eyes feels like an impossible task in this instant.

There’s no world outside of two of them, and Rodrigue wants nothing more than for this moment to last forever.

“Will you be with me?” Lambert says softly.

“Yes.”

As if there could be any other answer.

Lambert’s hand trails down the length of Rodrigue's arm until it meets his hand, and their fingers interlock. He pulls Rodrigue backwards towards the bed, and Rodrigue feels like he’s heading into something that he can never forget.

When did they get so close to the bed?

He lets Lambert direct his movements. Easy. Pliant. Ready to serve Lambert however he wants.  _ Eager _ to serve him.

Lambert sweeps him into a one-handed embrace, still keeping their right hands interlocked by their sides. He presses his face into the crook of Rodrigue’s neck.

“Do you want to swear an oath to me?” Lambert murmurs the question into Rodrigue’s long since gone pulse.

Rodrigue says nothing.

Lambert buries himself further in Rodrigue, and he can feel the press of his every breath against his neck. “I’m so lucky to have you,” Lambert exhales so quietly that Rodrigue almost misses his confession.

Lambert releases himself from Rodrigue, and he can’t help but mourn the loss of his embrace. Nothing could ever fit so perfectly.

At least he still has Lambert’s hand — a hand that Rodrigue has held so many times in his own — pulling him down to the bed with him.

He falls gently onto the bed with Lambert there to anchor him. They’re directly facing each other, laying sideways, close enough for Rodrigue  to feel the wisps of Lambert’s hair tickling his cheek, sending shivers down his spine . Their hands are still entangled with only the smallest sliver of distance separating them.

Looking anywhere but Lambert is beyond impossible.

“Will you always be mine?” Lambert says softly — almost gently, and with an unmistakable warmth to it.

“Yes,” Rodrigue responds immediately. He’s always helpless to resist when it comes to Lambert. Always a fool for him. “Yes.”

Lambert closes his eyes and presses his forehead against Rodrigue’s. His lips are so close, they’re taunting Rodrigue.

“Please, I need to hear you say it. Tell me you’re mine.”

And who is he to keep Lambert waiting?

“I’m yours. Always.”

Lambert closes the distance between them, but only just. His lips brush Rodrigue’s in the barest whisper of a kiss, the barest brush of his fangs, before he pulls back. Despite the mostly chaste nature of the kiss, Rodrigue feels a heat coiling around his lips, intoxicating in its own way.

“Tell me you belong with me,” he begs, desperation lacing his voice.

Rodrigue tightens his grip on Lambert’s hand and leans closer towards him. Desperate for another taste. Desperate for Lambert to bite down, to bite down  _ hard. _

“I belong with you. I belong  _ to  _ you,” he presses, he pleads, he  _ begs _ , hoping that he can convey even a modicum of the depth of his emotions for Lambert. Some vain attempt to make him understand, to make him  _ feel _ his reverence.

Lambert pulls away, and for a moment, Rodrigue feels his long dead heart begin to break. But his fears are put to rest when Lambert uses the space to leverage himself above Rodrigue.

Lambert’s eyes are swarming with some emotion that Rodrigue can’t read, and he holds his breath in anticipation, waiting for more.

He doesn’t have to wait long. Lambert takes his free hand caresses the side of Rodrigue’s face ardently. A thousand questions hang in the air, and Rodrigue doesn’t know if he will be strong enough to answer a single one.

“Will you be loyal to me?”

“Yes. I’ll be loyal to you.” Lambert’s hand traces down his jaw to his neck, brushing Rodrigue’s turning bite mark in a way that makes him shiver with anticipation. The action has to be deliberate. Lambert knows every inch of Rodrigue’s body just as well as he knows it himself. He  _ knows _ what he’s doing to him.

“I  _ am _ loyal to you,” Rodrigue finally manages to gasp.

Lambert’s hand continues its journey downwards, snaking down Rodrigue’s clavicle and settling on the top button of his shirt.

“Forever?”

“Always.”

Lambert’s hand finally, torturously, undoes the first button, and then the next, and the one after that until his chest is completely exposed.

His free hand winds its way back around until it finds purchase on Rodrigue’s shoulder. Right beneath the faint scar of his turning bite mark. Where his sire brought him into his second life many moons ago.

The idea of Lambert leaving his mark there too is…  _ exhilarating. _

Lambert leans in, his lips a hair’s breadth away from the mark.

“Please, Rodrigue, let down your guard.”

And gladly will he surrender himself.

Lambert presses a gentle kiss to the mark, sending fire running through his veins. Lambert’s fangs then puncture his skin, turning the flames into electricity, a euphoria that Rodrigue could never hope to replicate. A joy far more powerful than sunlight. A sacrament shared in secret between them.

Lambert pulls away far too soon. Rodrigue is more than ready to beg him for more, only to be paralyzed by the image of Lambert smiling down at him with  _ his _ blood escaping in a thin trail from the corner of his mouth.

“Will you stay with me?” Lambert asks, and his voice trembles. Rodrigue wants to laugh at what a complete fool Lambert is for ever thinking that this was even a question in the first place. Of course he’ll stay, he would rather die than lose Lambert.

Rodrigue tangles his free hand in Lambert’s hair and kisses his blood free from Lambert’s mouth. But the moment only lasts for an instant when they finally pull away. Rodrigue presses his forehead against Lambert’s, gasping for air he doesn’t need. He pours every ounce, every morsel of devotion he possibly can into this single moment.

Anything he can do to make this moment never end.

“I’ll never leave you. Not ever.”

“But I will,” Lambert whispers against Rodrigue’s lips.

Before the words can even make sense to Rodrigue, Lambert’s body turns to ash in an instant.

Ah. That’s right.

Lambert was killed by hunters years ago.

This is nothing more than the dream of a memory.

**Author's Note:**

> Yup it was a dream sequence.
> 
> lmao there were so many tags I couldn’t put on this because it would spoil the ending. Also couldn’t even mention what prompts I was filling for because that’d spoil it too lol. The prompts were “Supernatural au” and “Memories” and if I mentioned that latter it’d spoil literally everything.
> 
> Edit: I FORGOT TO MENTION MY BETAS. Huge shout out to [newmrsdewinter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/newmrsdewinter), [Arihime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arihime), and [AcquaSole](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AcquaSole)
> 
> Edit 2: GUESS WHO JUST REALIZED THERE’S A COLLECTION FOR RODRIGUE WEEKEND WHOOPS


End file.
